When Courage Fails
by Polaris'05
Summary: Facing the darkness is hard, facing it alone is harder. Surviving isn't a choice to be made, it's something that simply must be done, and WILL be done, even when courage fails. Because that's what true heroes are: survivors.


My A/N: As much as I would love to have such powerful writing attributed to me, I can't claim ownership. This wasn't written by me, but by a friend of mine going through a very hard patch, but it's such a moving piece that I HAD to see it published for others to read and be captured by the same chill and emotion as I was when I read it. I did get permission to post it first, never fear...

The original A/N: Sometimes, we find comfort from unexpected sources. We can't always rely on those we think we can trust. With hardships come tests and often, those around us will fail the tests of time and we find ourselves yet again, standing alone. We can't run from our demons. They'll find us no matter where we go. Others can and often do, even when they vow they never will. Emotions run deep and scars will never heal, but for those of us staring down that empty road, alone and afraid, we may find ourselves asking questions we'll never know the answers too. Courage is fleeting, but strength will get us through. Don't rely on others to be there, they won't be. But remember who you are, always and know that even in your darkest hour when courage fails you, as long as you remember who you are and take heart and strength from that, they never can and never will be able to beat you. The only one who can let your demons consume you, is you, so even when courage has failed, keep fighting. There will be a light, one day.

This won't make sense to anyone, but every now and then a writer just needs to put fingers to keyboard and type your heart into a piece of writing. Sometimes it's easier to bare your soul through a nonsensical piece of writing than it is to sit down and say the actual words.

**When Courage Fails.**

Leo stared out over the empty, barren wasteland, his heart heavier than it had been for years. Many times he'd looked out over the darkness, come close to losing himself as it crept ever closer to him, threatening to consume him. All those times, he'd found himself here, in this very place, and every time he'd wondered if he'd find his way out again.

Every time, he did, and yet, here he was again. He couldn't hide from it. He couldn't escape it. The darkness followed him wherever he went, always waiting for the time when he'd fall. But Leo couldn't fall, he knew this as surely as he knew tomorrow the sun would rise again. If he fell, it would mean the end. Beaten and defeated, he'd no longer stand as the proud leader of his clan. And Leo was nothing if not a survivor.

Others might have been alive, but for Leo, it was a question of surviving. Every day, every night, keep going, keep fighting. Not to live, not to fight and breathe, but to survive. Every day, when the crushing weight of responsibility threatened to overwhelm him, when he looked at his brothers and saw their faces alight with joy over something… that was what kept him surviving.

For Donny it was likely a science experiment or some mechanical device he could break apart in order to piece it back together again.

For Mikey, it was his comic books, or his video games. His ever increasing good natured spirit that got him through his days and gave him cause to smile.

For Raph, it was the fight. For him, it all boiled down to one simple thing. Fight to stay alive, fight to breathe, fight to keep going, fight to understand. Every day, day in, day out, fight, just to live.

For Leo, it was the joy on his brothers' faces. The simple knowledge that they would never carry the weight he did, would never be crushed under what he knew.

What did Leo know that brought him back to this desert waste land time after time?

When the going got tough, the tough got going. They would turn away and run. But he couldn't run. He'd never had that choice. No matter how far he went, or how long he traveled, it would never be far enough.

Central America had never been far enough. His demons had found him in the end.

_Be better. Be more. Do more. Do better. Change this. You can't do it. You fail, every time, you fail._

What Leo knew was simple. Life sucked, people…sucked.

He often asked himself the simple question**:** why was being himself never good enough, not even for himself? The answer evaded him time after time. He was blessed with a warm, loving family, he knew this, he was grateful. He knew there were some who were not quite so fortunate, but even through this love, this guidance and support, the strength he found every day just by looking at his family…he couldn't help but wonder. Why was being himself, just, never good enough?

Leo had long ago learned that in this world, all he had was his family. They knew too. They were outcasts, "freaks", mutated turtles, forever doomed to hide their faces in the shadows. They could trust no one, rely on no one. They never would be able too.

In spite of this, there were a few who had managed to get close and while his brothers accepted and trusted them, Leo could not. That wasn't an option open to him. He had to watch them, he couldn't trust. No matter how great they were, or how many times they proved themselves to be worthy of his trust, he never could trust them. He'd been burned one too many times and the burns never stopped coming.

For every one who came into their lives and stood the test of time, there were at least a dozen others who failed that same test, the test of love and understanding, respect and support, truth and honor.

For every one, there were many others. For every truth told, there were too many lies. For every shattered step forward, there were endless steps back as time and again, it was shown to him, thrust upon him that he would always be alone. There was no one who would understand.

In that knowledge, Leo knew, there was no trust, there was no understanding, only the endless need of others to try to push deeper, try to open wounds that had for many years been closed.

Perhaps the damage was already done, from the first moment Leo set foot out into the light and heard the infamous words "you freak". Perhaps the damage had been done when Leo was nothing more than a mere child, eager to learn and understand and finding nothing but hatred and darkness around him.

In truth, Leo envied Mikey. That boundless energy, that never failing optimism and Leo would never allow that light to die from his brother's face. But for Leo, that light had died many years ago, when he realized there were secrets hidden in the night. Dark shadows lurking round every corner, just waiting to reach out and consume him.

Hatred, so much hatred lurked around, trying to swallow him whole. Every word spoken shattered his soul. Every trust broken tore another chip off his heart and proved to him, yet again, that he was alone. Every new day brought with it countless hardships that threatened time and again to overwhelm him.

Some days, it was a struggle just to keep himself from drowning, forever fighting just to keep his head above water.

There was a saying Leo knew only too well. Only a fool is never afraid. Leo was no fool. Courage didn't stem from never finding yourself staring out over this wasteland. It didn't come from tough words and tough acts. True courage, courage from the heart and soul, came from knowing that courage failed and even without courage, there was still the fight to survive.

That, Leo knew, was where true courage dwelled. In the hearts of the ones who would face each day again, afraid and alone, but with chin up and shoulders back, ready to survive whatever the day would bring and if those days were anything like Leo's days…

_Be better. Be more. Do more. Do better. Change this. You can't do it. You fail, every time, you fail._

And whenever Leo failed, whenever that sickly scent of failure crept up into his nostrils and started to leave a sickly taste in his mouth, he would end up here. His head drooping in his hands, his breath shaky as he struggled to regain his composure. His hands pressing themselves fiercely against his head, hoping in vain that that would somehow block out the words. The words spoken by those he'd trusted, those he'd loved. Those he'd considered family and friends. But those words didn't stop.

They never stopped.

_Be better. Be more. Do more. Do better. Change this. You can't do it. You fail, every time, you fail._

_Be better. _

Why was being him not good enough?

_Be more. _

Why couldn't he just be him and be loved regardless?

_Do more. _

Why was what he did never good enough?

_Change this. _

Why did Leo have to change who he was just to please others?

_You can't do it._

No, no he really couldn't. Not anymore. He couldn't live up to what everyone expected of him. He couldn't face the disappointment that he…

_You fail, every time, you fail._

…failed, every time. It would never be good enough, never be enough. Who he was would never be ok. Not in the eyes of the world. Not in the eyes of those that he saw walking above him, around him, every single day. Who he was, would never be ok, not to them, not to those who believed they had any right to dictate how he should look and act and be and what choices he should make.

To dictators, bullies, arrogant blowhards who believed their own importance to be so far above what it truthfully was, who arrogantly manipulated and steamrollered their way through another's life, not caring if they shattered the body, mind and soul of the one they were seeking to control, to dominate, trying forever to be the all superior tough one, trying to force others into submission.

Leo's anger started to take hold as his hands clenched into tight fists, his knuckles digging hard against his eyes.

Submission, domination, control.

They were cowards. Tough talk, tough act, but they were nothing. No substance, no heart, no honor. They were cowards hiding behind a tough mantle.

The true heroes? The ones who had what it took? They were the ones who not only couldn't escape, they wouldn't. They'd stand and face every day as it came. They'd take every word and every broken experience and still, they'd face another day. Maybe they didn't have hope, maybe they didn't have trust or an endless supply of courage at their disposal, but they were the strong ones. The fighters. They'd face each day, broken and beaten, gasping for air and begging for the noise to stop so they'd finally be free from the constant stream of endless torment, but they'd face the day. They'd survive, somehow.

And so would he.


End file.
